A Subtle Liking
by shilhouette68
Summary: Sometimes, you need a person to admire. A person who has what you lack. ItaDei.


**Title:** A Subtle Liking  
**Pairing:** ItaDei  
**Summary:** Sometimes, you need a person to admire. A person who has what you lack.

* * *

It was raining. Deidara sat on the terrace where Pein usually was, hovering over everyone in Amegakure. Pein called Deidara for a mission and was told to wait, where he was now, for further details. He sat there, swinging his legs to-and-fro, obviously bored. He _could_ amuse himself and throw random explosives into the air, watch people look up to where he was and wonder if _Pein-sama_ was angry. But _Pein-sama_ straightforwardly _warned_ him to do **absolutely nothing** as he waited. 

'Yadda-yadda. Pfft.' Deidara pouted.

He was going to amuse himself anyway.

Clay butterflies and birds flew around him. The smell of extinguished fire dominated the area. He carelessly molded clay in his right hand, and a few seconds later, four little spiders crept out. His blue eye scanned the dark skies above, trying to play a game called 'guess-where-that-raindrop-would-land.' It wasn't fun. He detonated three clay butterflies.

It was silent, save for the barely-audible noise down below and the pit pattering of the rain, and Deidara vaguely wondered how the Leader stayed sane (that's what he thought) with so much quietness.

'Being a God isn't so much fun, I guess… un.' He detonated a clay spider.

Deidara scowled. Then he sighed.

Someone he didn't want to see right now was standing about 10 feet behind him. He felt eyes staring at his back. He was sensing that all-too-familiar chakra behind him.

'_He_ never turns off those goddamned eyes.' Deidara was feeling pressured and he didn't know why. _He_ hasn't done anything yet, and he was already feeling heavy inside. Slow and steady strides. _He_ was walking towards him. Deidara tried not thinking about what this man was doing here since he should be out, trying to capture that blond-jinchuuriki. He molded – well, more like crushed – clay in his hand, some of it sliding out in between his fingers.

The footsteps stopped. _He_ stood beside him.

Deidara looked glum, with his scowl and slouched posture and all; and as if _he_ called his name, Deidara hesitantly raised his head to look at the person beside him.

Itachi.

'Well shit, you just had to show up.'

The blond stared at those red eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Those red eyes. Those–

No. Not now. He didn't need this. Damn no, he didn't need this right now.

Deidara's eyebrow slanted down a little bit and he exhaled. Itachi stood there, giving him a side-glance, his body facing the world in front of him. He hasn't uttered a word. How typical, you bastard, Deidara thought.

_Would it be alright if I–_

_Go ahead, un. But I'd appreciate it if you'd just go away._

_…_

Itachi sat beside him anyway. He slightly turned his head to Deidara, who was staring at his clay-smothered hand. A look of disarray was imprinted on the blond's face and it looked so…

… out of place.

It clashed with everything _Deidara_. It clashed with his juvenile being, one of the simple things Itachi had _liked_ about him.

-----

Juvenility.

It was a foreign word to him. He had never experienced it – he remembered nothing of it; for all throughout his life, he had been a _stoic-bastard_, as Deidara had said he was.

-----

**BOOM!**

The explosion of colors looked dull against the black canvas (which was the sky).

Both of them looked awkward from a certain angle. The close (yet far) distance they sat in was off. With Deidara slightly slouching and his head drooping, he looked like he was mourning. And Itachi was _just_ there to comfort him; and he wasn't doing a damn good job.

**BOOM!**

Feeling eyes on him, Deidara slightly cocked his head towards his _companion_. Their eyes met. And once more, he couldn't fathom how a face could be so _deep_ and blank at the same time. That face was so devoid of emotion he refused to believe it. He didn't want to. It was impossible.

_How?_

_You're not making any sense, Deidara._

_…_ you_. How can you be so unfeeling? How can you be so… _Itachi_?  
_

_…_

_Do you even have that _thing_ beating in you, un?_

'_You're so full of what I never had, Deidara.'_

_Well?_

'_And that's what makes you so endearing.'_

Deidara looked away. He still had those eyes activated and it was making him feel aggravated. Was he rubbing it in? Was he trying to annoy him with that look he loathed so much?

Probably not. Those actions didn't characterize Itachi. Not at all.

-----

It was striking. The way Deidara just seemed to fit that word, juvenility. His cockiness, his smile… that carefree outlook… that _different_ youth he held. He lacked it. Itachi lacked it. And he wanted to keep it that way.

Nothing should ever change that.

-----

Itachi laid out his hand, much to Deidara's surprise. The blond looked dumbly at the hand held out to him. As if it was the very first hand he had _ever_ seen. A blue eye locked with blood red ones.

_What?_

_Let me see._

_…_

_Aren't you going to–_

_You're mocking me, un._

_You know me enough to not say that._

Deidara dropped a clay spider into his hand with doubt. He felt anxious. They sat in complete and utter silence. Nothing seemed to be present in Deidara's world right now other than the man he admired, taking his art into _consideration_. Uchiha Itachi. Minding art. Giving a damn about Deidara's art. Somehow, it didn't sound right, Deidara thought.

Deidara was becoming restless inside his mind.

What? What?

How will he react?

_Will_ he react?

Damn you! Hurry up and _say_ something you… damn bastard.

Wait, was that a smile? Shit, was _that_ a fucking smile?

Ita–

A voice in Deidara's head startled him. It was Pein.

'Come down to the fourth floor. Your partner is waiting.'

_Right_. Great timing, Leader.

Deidara spared a few more seconds looking at Itachi before groaning and standing up. The dark-haired man noticed the very slow movements of his _companion_ and followed him with his eyes. The artist disappeared into the door.

Uchiha Itachi faintly smiled.

-----

He wanted it to stay like that.

Because he needed someone to _look up to_. To be drawn in by one's childishness. Someone simple, exuberant.

A person with an indescribable passion.

-----

_Someone like you, Deidara. But you knowing that is unnecessary._

He looked up into the sky. The rain kept pouring down.

* * *

_A/N: Written for a friend in LJ. Happy Birthday, harukakamiya! ♥_


End file.
